The taxi driver insists he didn't take us for a ride - we insist otherwise. It's almost 4.00 a.m. and we begin to wonder if this is really worth the headache. There's a day ahead and this can't be the beginning of it. We wake up the whole household only to turn in ourselves - not many mind, but that's probably because not many are awake.
But you do wake up to the noise - both in your head and outside. You go down and survey the scene - some are there, some yet to arrive. You sit down with her and the two of you grin. It's been two months and although there's not a whole lot to catch up on, it's still good to be with her, see her run around and stir people into action.
You walk around in a daze, sleep deprived and a little hungry. Lunch will be ready soon, don't worry, she says. You know that it will be ready soon - it's always ready soon. She walks over to the balcony and yells through the grills "Ah Lalitha, cheppu" and proceeds to converse in yells and screams to the lady downstairs. Houses are practically stuck together and the neighbors can definitely hear the conversation, but no one cares. Why bother going down when your legs ache? She and I have worked out a system that works, she says. You grin and walk away - c'est la vie.
Lunch is served - it's the universal favorite - baigan.
**
You wake up less dazed but more confused - there's a lot of noise as people bustle about purposefully (or aimlessly, if you ask her). A trickle leads to a downpour that gives way to a deluge as everyone descends and total chaos reigns. Yet, in the midst of this chaos, knowing smiles are flashed, greetings exchanged, past incidents reminisced as echoes of laughter and the cacophony of noise fill the room. There is no respite from the overwhelming noise but there is an escape - perhaps into familiarity?
They crowd around the dinner table and continue animatedly in their discussions - politics, school, family gossip and relationship statuses. It's like Facebook in real time, with real people and a real conversation. The noise continues to hover around us all and as they serve the baigan on your plate, you look around and wonder - maybe this isn't a daze.
**
You have to wake up by 3.00 a.m., which inevitably means you worry about oversleeping. It's a big day, you're the center of attention and you don't want to screw it up by doing something so amateurish. Waking up on the hour, every hour can't be good, but you do it anyway - underneath that calm exterior, you're a control freak and you worry about slipping. As the hour approaches, you descend down and break a sleepy haze as people warm up to the events that are about to unfold. She's already up - has she even slept? Fresh as a daisy, but perhaps that's the adrenaline rush as the plans for the past two months come to pass. There aren't many happy faces as the pictures are snapped - but you also imagine that there aren't many happy faces in the houses stuck next to you as the band plays what can only be charitably described as a wooden elephant's trumpet. Which is accompanied by an accordion. And a dholak. All at full pelt. And it's not yet 4.00 a.m.
You move through the day, doing as you're told because you really don't know what else to do. You don't care, but you pretend do. And for once, that's okay - not knowing and pretending to enjoy it all isn't such a big deal. Ignorance is bliss? Perhaps. You need to let go of certain things to maintain sanity. As the smoke fills your eyes and they water, you look up to see the faces. In a bigger hall, they don't seem as many as they were at home and yet, they're all there. All of them. You stop for a second and repeat that again - They're all there. All of them.
Perhaps the second most poignant moment comes near the end when one of the elders walks up to her and confesses that this is a day he never asked for but was gifted nonetheless - seeing all the family together under one roof in happy times. Happiness is found when you least expect it. Those words stick... and stick... and are still stuck.
The most poignant moment is the 60th birthday celebrations - uncalled for, completely unexpected and surprisingly unbelievable. The genuine emotion on display - happiness and gratitude as your uncle announces that his little brother crossed 60 (little brother - 60) - is palpable, as is the acknowledgment of past efforts in more trying circumstances, the meaning of family and the presence of friends. You go through most of your adult life wondering why they ever bothered with the bonds. As you sit down to lunch, the banana leaf spread out, you can't help but continue to wonder.... right up to the moment they serve you baigan on the white rice.
**
The city lies naked below you - lines of yellow snaking between buildings, the roads and alleys crowded with vehicles. But the crowds are far away and therefore more tolerable. It took you both two hours to make a forty minute journey but you don't mind the traffic anymore. The vista below is a picture filed away in memory only, something that you both may look back on in the future - he in quiet contemplation, you in deep thought. You both look down and you know he, like you, wishes for better times, and you know his, unlike yours, is a greater need. He looks down wistfully one last time, turns around to you and says that perhaps its time you both made it back home. They would be waiting for us. You agree and as you head back, crawling along the roads, you wish you could tell him that better times were just around the corner. But you don't, because it doesn't seem like something brand new to him - he's heard it all before. As you wash up, sit down and stare into nothing, your gaze is draw to the plate below, and the baigan on it. The grocer needs to be fired...
**
You wake up again at 4.00 a.m. - why? There's nothing to do today. As you tip-toe around the snoring bodies sprawled across the floor, you remember those who aren't there. Those too far away. Those in a better place than you are right now. And you don't remember them wistfully at all - they would've been happy to be there, but they're happier where they are.
You sit down for lunch and she serves you baigan. She has a smile on her face and she looks happy - happier than she's been in years. And so are you, just to see that infectious smile again. Your thoughts turn to leaving, but you're not running away this time. You just have nothing more to do there so it's better to be in a different place.
**
You're at the airport but you can't anymore make one of the calls you normally make. You try to call home, but the network is busy. For some reason, the combination of the two upsets you for a little while. So much for telecoms in India. You finally get through to home and for some reason it feels like you've not spoken to them or seen them in ages. Very silly really, but you felt it nonetheless. You hang up, sit back and reflect... your distant past, the recent past, the past two days.... And you ponder about the future as you sieve through your thoughts. As you land, you think - maybe you'll have McDonald's for dinner.
**
Why is it that we embrace diversity in all aspects of our lives but our relationships? Why do we seek the comfort of someone who fits our norm? Why do we believe that we know the right way forward and try to fit everything into that path - much like square pegs in round holes, only that the pegs are people, the holes are life's journey and this isn't some camping expedition? Relationships are tricky things - we expect a lot from them but we feel burdened by expectations from them. They can infuriate you like no other, driving you to tears. Yet they can also make you laugh so hard that you shed the same tears in joy. The best relationships are grounded in the unconditional acceptance of the other, regardless of the behavior on show.
It may the behavior that makes a 50-year old woman do an Elvis shuffle in a sari right in the middle of a prayer to spice things up. It could be the pranks pulled on by the daughters-in-law of the household to pretend that a 60-year old man is remarrying his wife of thirty three years again in a mock ceremony, serenading them with cheesy love songs as the "bashful bride" coyly shies away as he garlands her. It could also be that kiss on the forehead that's shared in front of everyone. Or it could be all of it mashed up as one. Seeing all that makes you realize one thing - despite the pettiness that sometimes engulfs us, despite the pain of dealing with idiosyncratic behavior, despite the untold sufferings of nights gone by, you never run away from a person you love - you run to them. You fight tooth and nail for them, sometimes to be with them, because you would want them to do the same for you when the chips are down. In the end, that's what all relationships boil down to - the ability to depend on the other come rain or sun: Reliability. Security. Stability. Something you can retreat to in silence if you want to, or take a mile-a-minute if the mood grips you. And you've seen it work - you worked for it as much as you could.
You ought to get all of that at home, but the funny thing is, not many people can really define what home is. Someone once said that home is a place where you feel safe and comfortable - it has more to do with the people there rather than the place itself. However, to place so much faith in people raises questions - they would have to be willing to assume that responsibility, to be there all the time you need them and never walk out on you. With what seems to be a shaky ground, perhaps it would be more reasonable to hypothesize a home as something you build on your own? A home is more than a place of comfort and safety - it's a haven. It's a place where you can batten down the hatches if you need to or express yourself if you feel it. It is your sanctuary - why should it be left to others to provide it? True stability, love and peace in a relationship comes from being stable, in love and at peace with yourself. There's a saying that's oft repeated "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you". That could also be applied to expectations - expect of others what you would have them expect of you. Build your own home and you let those you love in - you let them redecorate the walls, color it with their touch and make them feel welcome. And do the same at theirs. Then maybe, just maybe, you find what you're looking for in others to complete you. So that you may complete them.
**
The original title of this post was supposed to be Lawaris (meaning orphan or one without roots) - but as I wrote it, I felt more of a sense of belonging. So I went for a completely opposite title. I think it suits it better.
But you do wake up to the noise - both in your head and outside. You go down and survey the scene - some are there, some yet to arrive. You sit down with her and the two of you grin. It's been two months and although there's not a whole lot to catch up on, it's still good to be with her, see her run around and stir people into action.
You walk around in a daze, sleep deprived and a little hungry. Lunch will be ready soon, don't worry, she says. You know that it will be ready soon - it's always ready soon. She walks over to the balcony and yells through the grills "Ah Lalitha, cheppu" and proceeds to converse in yells and screams to the lady downstairs. Houses are practically stuck together and the neighbors can definitely hear the conversation, but no one cares. Why bother going down when your legs ache? She and I have worked out a system that works, she says. You grin and walk away - c'est la vie.
Lunch is served - it's the universal favorite - baigan.
**
You wake up less dazed but more confused - there's a lot of noise as people bustle about purposefully (or aimlessly, if you ask her). A trickle leads to a downpour that gives way to a deluge as everyone descends and total chaos reigns. Yet, in the midst of this chaos, knowing smiles are flashed, greetings exchanged, past incidents reminisced as echoes of laughter and the cacophony of noise fill the room. There is no respite from the overwhelming noise but there is an escape - perhaps into familiarity?
They crowd around the dinner table and continue animatedly in their discussions - politics, school, family gossip and relationship statuses. It's like Facebook in real time, with real people and a real conversation. The noise continues to hover around us all and as they serve the baigan on your plate, you look around and wonder - maybe this isn't a daze.
**
You have to wake up by 3.00 a.m., which inevitably means you worry about oversleeping. It's a big day, you're the center of attention and you don't want to screw it up by doing something so amateurish. Waking up on the hour, every hour can't be good, but you do it anyway - underneath that calm exterior, you're a control freak and you worry about slipping. As the hour approaches, you descend down and break a sleepy haze as people warm up to the events that are about to unfold. She's already up - has she even slept? Fresh as a daisy, but perhaps that's the adrenaline rush as the plans for the past two months come to pass. There aren't many happy faces as the pictures are snapped - but you also imagine that there aren't many happy faces in the houses stuck next to you as the band plays what can only be charitably described as a wooden elephant's trumpet. Which is accompanied by an accordion. And a dholak. All at full pelt. And it's not yet 4.00 a.m.
You move through the day, doing as you're told because you really don't know what else to do. You don't care, but you pretend do. And for once, that's okay - not knowing and pretending to enjoy it all isn't such a big deal. Ignorance is bliss? Perhaps. You need to let go of certain things to maintain sanity. As the smoke fills your eyes and they water, you look up to see the faces. In a bigger hall, they don't seem as many as they were at home and yet, they're all there. All of them. You stop for a second and repeat that again - They're all there. All of them.
Perhaps the second most poignant moment comes near the end when one of the elders walks up to her and confesses that this is a day he never asked for but was gifted nonetheless - seeing all the family together under one roof in happy times. Happiness is found when you least expect it. Those words stick... and stick... and are still stuck.
The most poignant moment is the 60th birthday celebrations - uncalled for, completely unexpected and surprisingly unbelievable. The genuine emotion on display - happiness and gratitude as your uncle announces that his little brother crossed 60 (little brother - 60) - is palpable, as is the acknowledgment of past efforts in more trying circumstances, the meaning of family and the presence of friends. You go through most of your adult life wondering why they ever bothered with the bonds. As you sit down to lunch, the banana leaf spread out, you can't help but continue to wonder.... right up to the moment they serve you baigan on the white rice.
**
The city lies naked below you - lines of yellow snaking between buildings, the roads and alleys crowded with vehicles. But the crowds are far away and therefore more tolerable. It took you both two hours to make a forty minute journey but you don't mind the traffic anymore. The vista below is a picture filed away in memory only, something that you both may look back on in the future - he in quiet contemplation, you in deep thought. You both look down and you know he, like you, wishes for better times, and you know his, unlike yours, is a greater need. He looks down wistfully one last time, turns around to you and says that perhaps its time you both made it back home. They would be waiting for us. You agree and as you head back, crawling along the roads, you wish you could tell him that better times were just around the corner. But you don't, because it doesn't seem like something brand new to him - he's heard it all before. As you wash up, sit down and stare into nothing, your gaze is draw to the plate below, and the baigan on it. The grocer needs to be fired...
**
You wake up again at 4.00 a.m. - why? There's nothing to do today. As you tip-toe around the snoring bodies sprawled across the floor, you remember those who aren't there. Those too far away. Those in a better place than you are right now. And you don't remember them wistfully at all - they would've been happy to be there, but they're happier where they are.
You sit down for lunch and she serves you baigan. She has a smile on her face and she looks happy - happier than she's been in years. And so are you, just to see that infectious smile again. Your thoughts turn to leaving, but you're not running away this time. You just have nothing more to do there so it's better to be in a different place.
**
You're at the airport but you can't anymore make one of the calls you normally make. You try to call home, but the network is busy. For some reason, the combination of the two upsets you for a little while. So much for telecoms in India. You finally get through to home and for some reason it feels like you've not spoken to them or seen them in ages. Very silly really, but you felt it nonetheless. You hang up, sit back and reflect... your distant past, the recent past, the past two days.... And you ponder about the future as you sieve through your thoughts. As you land, you think - maybe you'll have McDonald's for dinner.
**
Why is it that we embrace diversity in all aspects of our lives but our relationships? Why do we seek the comfort of someone who fits our norm? Why do we believe that we know the right way forward and try to fit everything into that path - much like square pegs in round holes, only that the pegs are people, the holes are life's journey and this isn't some camping expedition? Relationships are tricky things - we expect a lot from them but we feel burdened by expectations from them. They can infuriate you like no other, driving you to tears. Yet they can also make you laugh so hard that you shed the same tears in joy. The best relationships are grounded in the unconditional acceptance of the other, regardless of the behavior on show.
It may the behavior that makes a 50-year old woman do an Elvis shuffle in a sari right in the middle of a prayer to spice things up. It could be the pranks pulled on by the daughters-in-law of the household to pretend that a 60-year old man is remarrying his wife of thirty three years again in a mock ceremony, serenading them with cheesy love songs as the "bashful bride" coyly shies away as he garlands her. It could also be that kiss on the forehead that's shared in front of everyone. Or it could be all of it mashed up as one. Seeing all that makes you realize one thing - despite the pettiness that sometimes engulfs us, despite the pain of dealing with idiosyncratic behavior, despite the untold sufferings of nights gone by, you never run away from a person you love - you run to them. You fight tooth and nail for them, sometimes to be with them, because you would want them to do the same for you when the chips are down. In the end, that's what all relationships boil down to - the ability to depend on the other come rain or sun: Reliability. Security. Stability. Something you can retreat to in silence if you want to, or take a mile-a-minute if the mood grips you. And you've seen it work - you worked for it as much as you could.
You ought to get all of that at home, but the funny thing is, not many people can really define what home is. Someone once said that home is a place where you feel safe and comfortable - it has more to do with the people there rather than the place itself. However, to place so much faith in people raises questions - they would have to be willing to assume that responsibility, to be there all the time you need them and never walk out on you. With what seems to be a shaky ground, perhaps it would be more reasonable to hypothesize a home as something you build on your own? A home is more than a place of comfort and safety - it's a haven. It's a place where you can batten down the hatches if you need to or express yourself if you feel it. It is your sanctuary - why should it be left to others to provide it? True stability, love and peace in a relationship comes from being stable, in love and at peace with yourself. There's a saying that's oft repeated "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you". That could also be applied to expectations - expect of others what you would have them expect of you. Build your own home and you let those you love in - you let them redecorate the walls, color it with their touch and make them feel welcome. And do the same at theirs. Then maybe, just maybe, you find what you're looking for in others to complete you. So that you may complete them.
**
The original title of this post was supposed to be Lawaris (meaning orphan or one without roots) - but as I wrote it, I felt more of a sense of belonging. So I went for a completely opposite title. I think it suits it better.
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